


Lovesick

by cosmic_ink



Series: Lovesick [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Again, Dream has to be the adult, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25591243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_ink/pseuds/cosmic_ink
Summary: In which Dream goes and looks for Ink, and ended up having a talk with the soulless protectorOr in other words, Ink is confused.
Relationships: Error/Ink, Sans & Sans (Undertale), Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: Lovesick [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861348
Comments: 231
Kudos: 166





	1. Chapter 1

The doodle sphere will never cease to amaze, Dream thought.

A never ending collection of alternate universes, dangling down in pieces of doodled parchments from the invisible ceiling high above, paints a picture only few could ever hope to imagine and witness in their lives.

And Dream himself was one of the lucky few, along with the multiverse's guardian and protector, Ink.

The artist had always resided in the realm of doodles, the connecting piece to every single world in the known multiverse.

Being in the doodle sphere was one of Ink's earliest memories (as far as he recalls). One where he first discovered the wide, expansive world that is the multiverse, in which not too long later, inherited his alias and sworn duty.

As a result, the scatterbrain artist decided to make home in the mystical realm. There was a special door in the doodle sphere, one where it's never at the same place at once, and could only be summoned on behalf of the artist's powers, that led to a pocket universe of Ink's abode.

Which was where Dream was heading to right now.

It worried him you see. It'd been two weeks since he last saw Ink, without any notable sightings of the colorful guardian in any of the universes. The worlds were spared from Ink's chaotic gallivanting as well as the usual spat that went on between the artist and a certain glitching destroyer. Strangely fortunate, as you would say.

Usually Dream wouldn't worry too much for Ink, Heavens know what could be going on in that rambunctious skull of his.

More than half the time, Ink was shown to be prone to moving from one chaotic thought to the next in a span of a few minutes. Troublesome as they might be, his friend has yet to bring forth any world endangering crisis as of the moment.

However, Dream couldn't help but be curious. And yes, maybe he was just a tinge worried, call him a mother hen then would you?

So here he was, making his way through the expansive golden realm to find Ink, and hopefully to learn of the reason for the artist's odd absence as well.

Being a trusted member of the Star Sanses (the name was an enthusiastic pitch by Blue), Ink had granted Dream and Blue access to the ever disappearing door of Ink's personal universe. Just with a resounding call from within either one's soul should have the door appearing to them right before their eyes.

And appear it did, with all of the glamour and extravagance of a disappearing bunny act by a typical magician.

A puddle of ink bubbles into existence a feet away from the golden guardian's call, its edges slowly oozing forward and expanding. A door then suddenly surges up from the puddle of ink and stop with a resounding puff of glitter, and in all typical Ink's fashion of style, landed with a resounding splat in the puddle

Dream rolled his orbits at the door's flashy appearance, mindful of the ink puddle as he opened it to enter.

Ink wasn't a looker for extravagance (unlike some sibling of his), but his home wasn't small by any means.

On a land of hearty plains, sat a cozy three-story home. It was complemented with a front yard of dainty little flower bushes, paired together with a charming little stone path that led to the front door of the building.

The greenery itself was painted to follow the seasons, magically changing the colors of its leaves' hue and shedding them come winter time. Dream didn't have to bet to know that the artist also painted them to be everlasting, because even a mere cactus wouldn't last under Ink's forgetful care.

Dream approached the house in purposeful steps, skull cocked in slight question.

Normally by now Ink would've sensed an outside party arriving into his little pocket universe, which would prompt the protector to unlatch his front door wide open to let his visitors in.

The door had remained shut even as Dream's cream colored boots made their way over to the porch's steps. Knocking on the door garnered no response from the inside as well, the wood staying locked shut.

The positivity guardian let out a thoughtful hum, Ink was probably shoulders deep into another one of his projects again, and couldn't pay attention to any potential visitors knocking on his door. Frankly, it wasn't something Dream would peg Ink not to do, although it didn't quell his concern from before.

 _Maybe Ink wasn't at home?_ Deciding to scout around for answers, Dream went to take a look at the surroundings of the house, hoping to find any signs of life to show that the protector was currently at home or elsewhere.

Scanning the windows proved fruitless however, as most of them were drawn shut from the inside, and the few which weren't covered bore no passing silhouette of the artist in question. He couldn't tell if Ink was inside the house for sure, as his aura couldn't pinpoint the artist's whereabouts like he usually could with other monsters.

You see, very few knew of the protector's true nature.

The artist was, in fact, soulless. An outcode that lacked the very culmination inside every living being. And the bright peppy face the inhabitants of the worlds came to know? That was just a facade put up with the use of Ink's paints. The emotions Ink felt were all fabricated, in a sense that they were simply, well, not _real_.

 _So as it may seem_ , Dream thought.

There were times where the guardian saw _something_ fluttering there, a fleeting glimpse of color swimming in that empty chest void of a soul. But it was always gone the next time Dream takes a good look at it, the spark disappearing in a blink of an eye.

Whenever the golden guardian was around Ink, he could truly feel the nature of Ink's peculiar trait. Whereas a normal monster's aura would exist as a constant wafting glow around their forms, Ink's felt a little more different. Different in the sense that his aura might as well not be there at all!

There wasn't any sheen of emotions surrounding the artist, no. Instead, there was this void that resided within the protector's core, and honestly, Dream had never seen anything like it.

Being around Ink felt entirely different from other monsters, as Dream was spared the barrage of another creature's emotions every time he felt a shift in their mood. Which was part of the reason why Dream hung around Ink in the first place.

Ink's company was the closest Dream could ever experience what it'd feel like being a normal monster, without his aura incessantly influencing those that come within talking distance to him for creator's sake!

Frankly, meeting Ink was a surprisingly new experience for Dream, one that, dare he say, wonderful in fact.

Not having to constantly be aware of another being's aura can be a blessing in disguise, as it was without the reminder that his own aura affects others in tow. Dream's aura simply didn't have an effect on Ink, as there was _nothing_ for it to affect on.

And to be honest, the former tree guardian was absolutely taken away by his friend's spontaneous bouts of energy and mood shifts during the first few moments of them working together.

Dream had no idea what Ink could possibly feel from one second to the next. Every moment spent with the artist felt like watching a movie on the edge of your seat, not knowing what could possibly happen in the next scene as the story progressed.

The guardian of positivity had never felt so uncertain and exhilarated in all his years of living, not counting the centuries he endured in stone, of course.

If asked what was the true nature regarding Dream's relationship with Ink? Well. Dream wasn't sure if the protector could truly experience friendship, but Dream would like to think that the other potentially could. Perhaps someday.

Which brings us back to his current plight, looking for the missing form of the aforementioned enigma of a friend.

Dream made his way over to the backyard, skull craned to look at the balconies and windows for any signs of the missing protector. He was just about to turn back when a random alcove caught his eye.

There!

On the third floor balcony (probably leads to the attic), hung a huge hammock (which was new) from what Dream could see.

And if he squints, there was a lump of something curled up in the hammock's fabric, a familiar form of a figure dressed in shades of brown and white. Dream's soul gave a happy thrum at his findings.

"Ink! Hey Ink!" The artist didn't move from his spot.

There was a tiny voice nagging in the back of Dream's mind, telling him something wasn't right.

"Ink! If you're awake, could you please unlock the door?" Dream hollered.

…..

A moment passed with nothing happening, making Dream's soul shuddered in concern. Just as he was about to go kick down the door himself, a resounding click echoed out from the front porch.

"Thanks Ink!"

The inside of Ink's home was an organized chaos, as Ink himself once put it. Furniture with any feasible surface were littered with art supplies of every kind, coupled up with an endless surplus of unfinished sketches and painted works. Though this time, the mess seemed just a little too excessive than usual, even for Ink.

Dream carefully made his way through the maze of half completed artworks and papers, mindful not to step on a stray sketch scattered here and there. He quickly ascended the stairs, crossing a hallway (also filled with a plethora of sketched over papers) and opened the door that he, in his haste, hoped had led to the attic.

Luckily for the guardian, he was right.

Ink's attic was a spacious one, having a sunroof that let in the rays of sunlight into the area. There was a set of large glass doors to a side of the attic's walls, one of them opened wide. From what Dream could see, it led out to an open patio, just where he needed to go.

The positivity guardian slowly made his way over to the door, and promptly peeped out from the doorframe.

There laid Ink, curled up into a ball inside the woolen hammock. Dream couldn't see the artist's face, as the latter was curled up facing away from the door's opening.

Slow but certain, Dream made sure his steps were loud enough to alert Ink of his coming arrival. Oddly enough, the artist remained unmoving as Dream approached closer.

A trickle feeling of fear sent shivers up Dream's spine, and he couldn't help but take a swallow as he gave a gentle shake to Ink's shoulder.

"Ink? Ink it's Dream, I came to check on you." Nothing happened.

Alarm bells were going off in Dream's skull. Taking a more daring move, the guardian slowly but firmly gripped the other's shoulders, and turned him around.

.....

_Oh creators....._

"Ink, when's the last time you took your paints?"

The artist offered no response at his question, his pair of white colored orbits staring into the distance. The white pips blink once, settling on Dream as if only then noticing the guardian's presence, before looking away again. If anything Ink's form seemed to curl into himself tighter at the sight of Dream's appearance.

"C'mon Ink, let's get you up first..."

Dream gently lifted Ink's form to a sitting position, with an arm looped around the other's back while another cradled the side of the protector's hips.

It didn't bode well with the golden guardian seeing as to how pliant Ink's limbs felt when he unfurled them, his body seemed to allow itself to be repositioned without any resistance.

Once upright, Dream took notice of the artist's hands gripping onto something in their grasp.

"Hey Ink," Still no response. "What do you have there?"

When Dream went to touch Ink's hands, the artist shifted them away in the slightest bit. This made Dream's golden orbits glanced up to Ink's skull, those white pinpricks were now looking at him with unnerving focus.

Dream tried to ignore the unsettling jolt they sent down to his soul, putting up a warm smile. "Would you like to show me? I promise I won't take it away."

Those pale pinpricks seemed to dilate for a swift second, before they glanced down toward the bundle that was clutched in Ink's hold. Ever so slowly, those phalanges parted away to reveal what was inside. Dream had to hold in a gasp.

Revealed in Ink's grasp, was a small knitted doll. A doll that no doubt resembled the only being that could rival Ink's prowess. It was none other than the destroyer of worlds, Error.

As quick as it did, Ink's phalanges closed around the little doll once again, shifting it away from Dream's shocked gaze.

The artist brought his legs crossed around his hands, eyelights never leaving the guardian's gaze, as if afraid of any movement of Dream surging forward to steal the little doll away from him.

"Dream promised. Won't take away." Ink finally said, voice blank in a flat soulless tone.

Dream would have laughed if it was any other situation. The artist was behaving like a meek little child, who was afraid of having their precious toy stolen from them.

"I did promise, and I won't." Dream spoke softly. He knelt down before Ink, face calm and patient.

"How are you feeling, Ink?" Dream gently prodded. "Are you okay? You weren't around for quite a while and I got worried."

The pair of white orbits blinked once, twice, seeming to think over Dream's words for a moment.

"Was thinking." The artist replied flatly. "Ink needed to be alone. Needed to think."

Well, that didn't help at all. Dream huffed out a tired sigh, but remained his patient smile on nonetheless.

"Would you like to take your paints? I can go get them for you if you like."

Ink pondered on his question, eyelights never stop staring into Dream's golden orbits.

"In Ink's room." His friend blankly answered. "Second floor, down the hallway to the right."

With that, Dream quickly went away to retrieve the mentioned paints, finding the paint sash on the bed. When he made his way back to the patio, he began to take notice of the many drawings littered around the house.

Oddly enough, a majority of them beheld the destroyer as their main subject, the black boned skeleton drawn in a range of different poses and expressions. Some of them held the destroyer in rather....unorthodox positions, in which he swiftly avoided those.

Upon returning to Ink's side, Dream found the other examining the little doll in his hands. The doll was held close to the protector's skull, pale eyelights taking in the knitted replica of the destroyer's face as bony finger tips lovingly played with the doll's limbs.

A stray creak on the wooden floor alerted Ink of Dream's return, his colorless orbits swiftly flicking over to the guardian without moving the rest of his body. The white pips then landed on the sash held in Dreams hands, in which they dilated in response.

"Would you like to take the paints now, Ink?"

Ink blinked his sockets once.

"Give them to Ink. Put them here." The artist said as he patted the right side of the hammock. Dream wordlessly abided, before stepping back and let Ink do his work.

In the meantime, he took a look around, once again finding multitudes of drawings showcasing to Error's tear-streaked skull. However, his gaze stopped at a particular stray doodle on the wall, one that not only had the destroyer in it, but someone else as well.

The piece showed a sketch depicting Error from the back. The destroyer was sitting on the floor, knitting a colored scarf. And seated next to him, was Ink himself. The sketch was given a soft crayon shading to compliment its ballpoint outlines.

But the feature that caught Dream's attention the most, was a distinct soul-shaped object drawn in the centre of Ink's chest, along with Errors. Glancing down, Dream saw a quote at the bottom of the page, it's ink looked rather runny for some reason.

_**"What if...?"** _

.....

_What is this—_

"Dream, can Ink ask you something?"

Brought out of his thoughts, Dream turned to look at Ink, finding the other had yet to consume his paints, but was instead fiddling with two particular vials in his hand.

The colors were blue and a soft shade of pink. Blue for sadness, pink for—

"Is Ink dying?"

Wow okay, that took a quick turn.

"W-Why would you say that, Ink?" Stars, where had that come from? Whatever it was, that certainly wasn't what Dream expected to hear coming out from his friend's mouth.

"Because...Ink feels that he is dying. Ink feels sick."

At this, the artist puts down the two vials in his hand, lying back down on the hammock. Clutched in his other hand, was the small Error doll from earlier, his eyelights never straying from it.

“And Ink doesn’t know why...”

Dream’s sockets widened when it hit him.

Oh.

_Oh._

.....

Oh boy.

Dream was the one and only guardian of positivity for fuck’s sake! You expect him to have this figured out sooner.

The guardian released a resounding sigh, shoulders sagging in relief. Yes, his friend was sick, but it was a different kind of illness in that sense.

“You’re not sick Ink.” _Stop it. Don’t you fucking laugh, you._ “And you’re not gonna die, that I am sure.”

Fuck it, Dream is currently fucking smiling like an idiot.

Dream began to walk forward over to Ink’s hammock, his boots clicking softly against the wooden floorboards as he took a seat down by the protector’s side. He looked over to Ink, seeing the other’s blank gaze still trained on the lovely little plush clutched in his hold.

“Why don’t you tell me about that doll?” Dream asked. “How’d you get that?”

Ink’s eyelights glanced up at him for a split second, before darting away again as he brought the Error doll closer.

“Ink stole it.” Ah, he should’ve figured.

“Ink stole it from Error, because Ink was feeling sick. Ink wanted to be close to Error, but Ink went and stole this instead.”

“And Ink doesn’t know why.” _Holy stars, he’s nuzzling the little doll!_ “Why did Ink do that and why is Ink feeling sick.”

If Dream wasn’t so respectable of his friend’s personal life, he would’ve taken a picture right then and there.

Ink, the multiverse’s protector, was yearning for the stars damned destroyer! Holy crap. Dream shook his skull to clear his thoughts for a bit.

Stars above, Ink was fucking _lovesick_.

“Can Dream tell Ink why is he feeling this way?” _Oh geez, here it comes._

“Well, it depends....” Dream wearily began.

“Seeing as to why you did this, you said you wanted to be close to Error, right? Why Error though?” Dream asked as he sat up straighter. “Why would you like to be close to him, of all people?”

Indeed.

It’s common knowledge that Ink and Error were, in a sense, mortal enemies to one another. You have their world shaking battles to thank for that. Not only did the purpose in which they served oppose the other outcode, but their personalities certainly weren’t a match made in heaven either.

Error could barely stand to be in Ink’s proximity for more than a few seconds, while the artist couldn’t focus on one person long enough to have a decent conversation with, less of all a conversation with the destroyer of all monsters.

Perhaps, there was more than meets the eye?

“Error....makes Ink feel soft.” The soulless guardian said. “When Ink is around Error, Ink feels warm, and content around him.”

“Ink feels....complete, when he’s around Error. When Ink is away from Error, Ink doesn’t feel complete. Ink doesn’t feel warm.”

Ink shifted himself upright again, clutching the doll on his lap. “Ink wants to feel warm again, Ink wishes to feel complete.”

“And to do that, Ink wants to be with Error, because Error is the one that makes Ink feel warm.” Dream has to pinch himself to refrain from cooing. His friend was once again nuzzling the doll, may the stars grant his soul mercy.

“And you’ve haven’t taken any paints at all, Ink?”

Those white pips blinked once. “No. Ink has yet to take any paints for a whole week.”

_Oh Ink....you soulless wonder of an idiot._

“You’re not sick Ink. And you’re certainly not dying.” Dream concluded as he made to get up, in which Ink’s blank gaze followed him as he did so. “But you are feeling something, aren’t you?”

A short nod.

“Well, Ink. I think…..you may have a crush on Error.” Stars, it hit differently when Dream said it out loud.

“That’s impossible.” The protector looked off to the side. “Ink couldn’t feel without his vials. Ink can’t feel without his paints.”

“Well, you’re clearly feeling something.” Dream couldn’t help but feel like he’s in the position of a parent, and Ink was his soulless, coming of age child who’s confused about love.

“Maybe you don’t need the paints to feel that way.” Dream suggested. “Love works in many ways after all. And sometimes, different people define love differently from others, they come to feel it in their own special way.”

“Maybe for you, loving someone doesn’t necessarily mean dating them, or feeling attracted to them at all.”

“Love, for some people, can be just a sense of companionship you feel towards another, a feeling of completeness, as you put it. Like if you’re in the other’s presence, you merely feel content, just like that.

“You don’t always have to feel any sort of intimate attraction towards the person that made you feel that way, in order to say that’s what love is. Because it’s not. Not always.”

“So....is that what you’re feeling, Ink?” Dream added towards the end.

.....

Ink was silent throughout Dream’s long rant, sockets stayed in their ever blank, soulless gaze. A moment of silence passed, before the artist reached for a pen in his pants' pocket, using it to write something down on his scarf.

“Would Dream wait for Ink downstairs at Ink’s living room?” He uttered while he wrote on the lengthy brown fabric. “Ink will take his paints now. Ink will be down shortly.”

Dream beamed a happy grin, brushing off imaginary dust from his tunic. “Sure thing, Ink. I’ll see you downstairs, alright?”

Ink gave a nod to this, and Dream headed off to leave through the attic’s door. Just as he was about to grab the doorknob, a voice called out from behind him.

“Ink may not remember this later, but Ink thanks you, Dream.”

Dream felt his soul gave a warm glow at that, his grin softening a touch on his skull.

.....

The doodle sphere will forever never ceased to amaze Dream, an enigma in its very right.

But the protector who calls it home? Oh, even _more_ so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Ink is heavily inspired by The_Lich_Queen's Error 404 series, particularly [Sounds Of The Static - Limit Of Rainbows ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24370345/chapters/58775164)  
> Go give it a read if you haven't! It's super unique and packs a whole lotta punch.
> 
> I rlly like how LichQueen wrote Ink speaking in third person when he's low on Ink. And I've been reading some of [writingforFUNandbecauseBoredom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingforFUNandbecauseBoredom/pseuds/writingforFUNandbecauseBoredom)'s work lately, their [Mama Bear Ink](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729639) series has rlly cool headcannons for Ink, which prompted me to write this one shot on an impulse whim XD
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading!


	2. some doods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so, the Error doll looks just a _liiiiiitle_ bit bigger than what the fic said 
> 
> *sweats*
> 
> pretend it’s still smol, wokay?


	3. some comic doods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a comment from writingforFUNandbecauseBoredom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s for you Write!

  
*Ink pulls a prank on Error*

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am a little tired to do digital today, so I give y’all some pencil sketches instead XD
> 
> Also, come hit me up at my tumblr if u wanna hang!  
> The name’s @inkclover


End file.
